


Overdose

by xax



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Come Inflation, M/M, Oral Sex, Prolapse, Sex Pollen, Slime, Snowballing, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xax/pseuds/xax
Summary: Amarant gets waylaid on a routine trip through the Evil Forest, and this ends up having some unexpected consequences for the thief group Tantalus who happen to be crashing their airship there at the same time.





	

With North Gate locked and South Gate closed, the only path to Alexandria was straight through the Mist. Below the Alexandrian plateau was the infamous Evil Forest, a thick and deadly tangle of living trees that devoured all that entered it.

Amarant didn't think he'd have any problem.

They may have been evil, but they were still _plants_. Sometimes he had to get into Alexandria through less-than-overt means, so he'd traveled through the forest a few times before. Usually the plants were half-asleep, torpid and sluggish; they didn't pay anyone any mind as long as they didn't linger. Which wasn't to say that he hadn't had any... close encounters with some particularly invasive plants on his previous trips, just that the plants had short attention spans and it was nothing that a seed removal potion afterwards couldn't cure.

He barely slowed as he passed from the dark, misty plain into the shadows of the trees, steadily heading through the forest. He had an appointment to make, after all, and Lani wouldn't like it if he was late.

He was deep into the forest by the time an explosion lit up the sky. It was like a flaming meteor descending from the heavens: an airship crash, fresh from the Alexandria docks far far above. Unmoored cargo and shattered masts crumbled down, crashing into the canopy, heralding the main mass. The airship hit, strong enough the earth rumbled under Amarant's feet, and a blast of flame burst out in all directions. Amarant cursed. With the noise and fire he could already feel the forest waking up: flowers uprooted themselves to reveal taloned limbs, the canopy shook as vines wove through the branches like snakes, and the trees themselves creaked and groaned as they turned towards the explosion, as if to watch.

Unfortunately, the ones closest noticed _him_ as well. They made some tentative, sluggish grasps towards him, and he cursed again and took off at a run. The forest was still half-asleep, and he was a much smaller target than whatever remnants of the airship were bound to be. He'd still get through fine, although as usual it looked like his plans were ruined by the unexpected incompetence of others.

The airship had come down between him and Alexandria. Just on the face of it, it meant something had happened in Alexandria. But more pressingly, it meant he either had to go right through what was bound to be the most lively part of the forest _and_ deal with whoever had crashed an airship, or take a wide detour around it all, which would almost certainly make him late. Might as well go straight through; he was itching to fight or fuck anyway.

It was easy to tell in which direction the crash was: its flames lit up the mist, forming a pillar of hazy light rising up through the sky. It looked like he was gonna pass by with it to the east, but his straight-line path to Alexandria would take him pretty close to the crash site. Already there were flower monsters coming after him, although they forgot about him if he just kept going. Above him, the canopy was thick with bristled, spiny vines, twining around branches and swooping out at him as he dashed by. The forest wasn't after _him_ ; it was after the people left in the ship, if there were any. But as long as he was around the crash, he was a target. He hurried.

Dashing through the forest worked well enough until it didn't. The underbrush grew thicker; the ground faulted upwards in a short, overgrown cliff. Amarant leapt up, reaching through the overgrowth to get a grip on the wet, crumbling rock beneath, and halfway up the plants came alive around him. The whole cliffside lurched for him, knocking him half off. The pursuing plant monsters had caught up to him; clicking and stridulating beneath him like angry insects, and as he swung himself back towards the cliffside vines wrapped around him, twining up his arms and down his legs, immobilizing him.

Thorns scraped at his skin, and he could feel the hot rush of their toxins heat his body. He was still pissed off at being late, but as another vine worked its way up his pant leg, shredding them as it went, he figured he might as well enjoy it while it lasted, since he was tangled up and trapped anyway. The hooked thorns ripped up his clothes, carelessly leaving dozens of long, shallow scratches all across his legs and chest before they tore the last scraps of clothing off his body. Their work done, they rose up, lifting Amarant away from the cliff face up into the canopy, an entirely different kind of vine weaving through the branches.

The vines were thick and oozing, gritty sap dripping from pustulant-looking spore sacs bulging along their lengths. With no clothing left in their way, the vines already wrapped across his arms and legs tightened their hold, digging deeper into his skin. The other vines met him, and dozens of their spore sacs popped as they looped around him and the other vines, leaving him hanging in a bizarre impromptu harness twenty feet off the forest floor. The greenish spore cloud enveloped him, the smell overwhelming, just pulped green plant life invading his orifices. Amarant sagged back, dizzy, breath coming fast and hard, the hot burn of the spores thick and gritty in his sinuses and the back of his throat.

Something prodded against his lips and Amarant opened his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them. There was another vine coiled in front of him, looping between the vines that made up his harness, dribbling sap. Drops splattered across his chin and chest, and Amarant went cross-eyed trying to focus on the fluid. It was a translucent dark green, seamed with brighter green threads. The sap dripped down his body, but the vine itself dove towards him, prodding against his lips, and he lost his focus, mouth opening in a moan as he let the vine plunge into him. He opened his mouth wide, tongue slurping along the bottom of the vine, easily swallowing it along with the mess of slime it was oozing. It was thick and gritty, crunchy seeds or spores grinding between his molars, more and more of it oozing from the dimpled hollows of the vine, not only the part of it that was in his mouth but also the length outside, coating his face in the heavy discharge.

Another vine slid across his ass, bursting more spore sacs and sending up another heavy cloud. But this one slid around his thighs, brushing against his rampantly erect cock, and slowly nudged against his asshole, the knobbly tip twitching and twisting as it began pushing inside him. Amarant moaned, the sound muffled and wet around the vine in his mouth, and relaxed his asshole, rocking himself back against it, sending the whole harness swinging slowly.

The vines all dripped with ooze; fluid welled up at the ragged edges of its torn spore sacs, dripping a thin translucent fluid across Amarant's skin. It pushed against his open asshole, sliding inside gently, but once it was solidly in him it thrashed wildly and plunged deeper. A foot of vine plunged into his ass with a wet squelch, slimy sap splattering all across his ass and thighs. Amarant convulsed, his body jerking with reflex, muscles across his thighs and ass spasming. The vine only stopped its inward movement when it crashed against the back of his ass, drawing out a ragged cry. The vine in his mouth took that as a chance to push into his throat, making him choke and splutter, coughing up the vivid green sap as he gasped for breath.

Now that it was solidly inside him the vine began _pouring_ fluid, a thin fluid dripping and then pouring from his ass. The vine writhed inside him, blindly searching for the entrance to his intestines. It bashed against the walls of his ass, sending a diffuse, hot pleasure through his body, before it finally struck the dimpled opening inside him. The vine writhed, blinding pushing, slowly working him open until it plunged in again, surging deeper, weaving back and forth like a snake. Another foot vanished inside him before it smacked against the bend of his colon, slowly twisting around as it attempted to shove itself even deeper. The sharp movement had burst dozens of its spore sacs, pollen clotting in huge gritty smears over his spread asshole and cheeks, tangling in his coarse hair. Fluid dribbled out from his ass, pouring wet and hot inside him, deeper and deeper now. After a long moment the vine went tumescent, unable to find its way deeper, and began _spurting_ fluid, in such great quantities that Amarant could feel the steady wet gush hose down his insides, slopping and oozing out of his loose asshole.

Amarant hung like that for a while, dizzy and pollen-coated, vine pouring hot fluid inside him, so much that it seemed it was all just as rapidly pouring from his overfilled ass. His body ached sharply, thorny vines still tangling around his arms and legs, whatever poison they were oozing making his skin flush even hotter. He opened his mouth wider, stretching it around the oozing bulbs of the plant, swallowing thickly as it drooled green sap in a steady stream, the sluggish spurt of the tip all the way down in his stomach steadily flooding him, a wet hot weight of slime growing in his chest.

The vine curled inside him, making his guts lurch and cramp, and then it jerked back with an uneven rhythm, wet, oozing feet of it yanking out of his gaping, flushed ass. Amarant sprawled back, sucking slowly on the vine winding down his throat, clear slime slopping wetly out of his overfilled ass. The vine finally pulled free with a squelching pop and a gush of slime, his stretched asshole flexing wide, clenching and opening again, slime hanging down in heavy, long strands across his ass and thighs, jiggling and swinging as the vines shifted around him.

Amarant only dimly saw a new movement in the canopy, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused as he concentrated on sucking on the vine fucking his mouth. One of the nearby trees shook, heavy clouds of pollen discharging from its bowed branches, and the massive vine twined around its trunk tore away, snapping the brittle creepers around it, leaving behind a ragged tracery like bulging veins along its surface. Its base was as thick as the tree trunk it was growing around, still immobile, twined up across the huge trees. The vine branched apart many times, like a hydra, but each offshoot tore away from its resting place in the canopy and converged towards him.

The ends of the vines were tipped with gigantic, fleshy flowers. Some had dozens clustered together, like bellflowers, their thick, triangular petals overlapping. Others were simply one hugely over-sized flower. The flowers were roughly conical, the petals at the tip tiny yellow-pink spikes, each successive row larger and further down the main body, fading to a greenish-yellow at the final, massive, bowed-back petals. The spaces between the petals were choked with pollen, dingy yellow snowstorms drifting from the soft flower pods as they moved, catching across Amarant's sweaty, slime-covered body and piling up into thick clumps, making his skin tingle and burn.

One of the flowers slammed into his leg in its aimless, drunken weaving around him, and the contact sent his harness swinging back and forth, the vines wrapped around him twitching and clenching tighter. Their thorns scraped long scratches through his flesh as they drew him higher into the canopy. The flower slid up along his thigh, leaving behind a mess of pink-yellow pollen across his skin, and finally plowed against his ass with an unthinking force, the impact enveloping him in a cloud of pollen, powdery in his nose and throat, crusting across his body, thickening the lines of clear slime dripping from his ass.

The spiny petals were surprisingly sturdy, digging against his skin as the flower pod dug into his asshole, worming its way inside his flushed, aching asshole. Amarant lurched, grunting as the massive flower bore inside him. The flower bulb was almost as wide as his hips at the very base, and as it ground into his asshole it _compressed_ , its thick spiky leaves pinching against each other as the soft inner pod became saturated and heavy, soaking up the clear sap filling his insides.

No matter how worked-open he was after the last vine, there was just no way he could stretch enough to fit the gigantic bulb inside him. The spiky pod worked partway inside him, the huge hip-wide flare of it wedged between his thighs as the relatively narrow tip bore inside him. Its thick, saturated pollen dusted out over his soaking skin in heavy clumps, grinding grittily against his skin, trapped in the folds of his stretched asshole. It stung, burning across his body, and he could just imagine his skin being covered in red welts after the wet clumps of pollen were washed away.

The huge seedpod of the flower bud lodged inside him _shifted_ , its fleshy petals parting as the inner section came loose. Some inner working of the plant pushed it forward, stretching his ass even further. The thick, fuzzy lump pushed through the apparently-hollow core of the plant. Its long, wiry hairs scraped along the inside of his ass as it slowly slid inside him. Amarant shifted, his legs tensing as the vines spread his legs further, tilting him back, making the thick seedpod slide into him faster and easier. The tapered, pointy tip of it knocked deep inside his ass, pushing up into the already-opened passage to his guts, scraping along the rippling muscle of his colon as the end of the seedpod pushed its way inside him. The flowering bud clenched shut inside him, much thinner and more flexible with the rigid core shoved inside him. It worked deeper, twisting back and forth, working further inside his already gaping-wide asshole, the fleshy spikes across the flower bigger and rougher as each row scraped along the engorged, flushed red flesh of his distended asshole.

Amarant panted for breath, slobbering around the vine in his throat, the sizzle of pollen over his skin seeming as much pleasurable as painful, all of it focusing around the deep heat of the seedpod inside him, its shape already dissolving as it dumped its heavy load of pollen inside him, caking the walls of his ass.

The entire vine shuddered, swinging back and forth along its length, twisting inside him and pulling out a fraction, and then the end snapped open, bulging out into a thick oval. His entire body went tense; it felt like it was filling every possible space inside his ass, its spikes like a thousand pinpricks across his inner flesh. Something _flooded_ into him, pouring into him with muffled glugs, sounding loudly up through his stomach. Amarant's chest heaved as the flood of fluid hit him, like a shock of water. His guts seized and cramped, the disturbingly warm fluid immersing the massive seedpod. Its dense core dissolved into fibrous cords, tangling around inside him as the packed-tight pollen dissolved into a thick ooze. The husk melted into rough-edged shards, flexing and breaking inside him, blunt and painful as they scraped inside him.

The flood of fluid didn't let up, the massive vine _pulsing_ , some unknown gland hooked up to the far end of it, forcing what had to be gallons of strange sap inside him. His guts cramped again, seizing with an audible rumble, and he let out a shaky groan as the flood inside him just pushed deeper, sloshing into his guts and carrying the thick mess of the mostly-dissolved seedpod, spreading the burning pollen higher in his stomach. The flower worked inside him, shuddering with each pulse, and it slowly folded against itself, the thin fluid bursting out from between its thick folds. The mess of fluid dripped down the vines surrounding him, pouring to the ground far below him and coating the plants below a light, off-white color.

The fluid inside him wasn't very slick, flowing like water, but there was a _lot_ of it, flooding back over the flower's thick petals, and it pushed further inside him with that small amount of added slickness. The shape of it was completely distended, the massive folded spikes rough like sandpaper across his asshole. Amarant seized, sending the vine harness swinging again as the flower tried to push deeper inside him. His asshole was already stretched far beyond what he thought he could take, a shooting pain surging up his spine with each minute shift of the massive bud inside him.

The flower still dug deeper, his inflamed asshole slowly gaping wider as the rough-edged petals scraped inside him. He wasn't anywhere near as wide as he needed to be to take it; he could feel exactly where his hips were, feeling like flesh drawn tightly over bone. The flower was squeezing through the tight hole of his hips, his asshole completely slack and ruined, bloated and engorged with blood until it felt like something hanging off him, his flesh thick and folded over itself. The flower lurched into him in uneven jolts, the sheer immense _fullness_ of it making him gasp for breath, more that a little worried it would just crack his hips and plunge inside. Only the final few rows of petals were still outside him. Its main body had squeezed through, inside him, and it visibly bulged out just above the soft lines of his hips, muscle and fat a thin covering compared to the immensity of the thing inside him. The flower pinched and folded against itself, crushing its heavy, drooping fronds together, their skin rough and scaled, catching and dragging at his aching asshole as it lurched inside.

It finally _shoved_ , the final petals bowing back inside him. They _cracked_ , snapping loudly as they tore off, and the entire massive bulb shoved inside him, filling every possible space inside him and then more. The broken petals caught against his flesh, jammed in his asshole in pieces as the main body of the vine curled against him, slowly sinking deeper. Amarant saw nothing but stars, sharp flashes of light in the corner of his eyes as they rolled back into his head, the heavy, painful ache of his asshole nothing compared to the weight of it. His inner flesh was flushed and irritated as the sandpaper-petals dragged back and forth inside him, feeling like he would burst if the flower moved at all.

Solidly seated inside him it unfurled, its heavy petals digging into the walls of his ass as its center spread again, another heavy gush of thin sap flooding into him with the force of a hose. Amarant's mouth fell open and he yelled, through the fat bulb pressed against his tongue, continuing until his voice ran out with a dry squeak. His stomach _rippled_ as the sap flooded inside him. The massive bulge of the flower pod shrunk as the rest of his stomach filled out, _sloshing_ as Amarant thrashed back and forth, gasping raggedly for breath as it kept pumping more and more thin, watery fluid up inside him.

All he could do was dizzily take it, spreading his legs further as the huge vine worked its way deeper, always pumping more and more sap inside him, until his stomach bloated impossibly, until he felt he would just burst apart. His skin burned, pollen crusted thick over his entire body, aching and trembling as the pressure inside him increased steadily, more and more and more. Sap oozed from his ass, his muscles there completely slack and destroyed, a heavy bulge of internal flesh gaping outwards, unfurling down the length of the vine as it pushed deeper, its huge flower threading his guts. His body lurched and shuddered, the vine twisting him around it, aching skin seaming open in burning stretch marks, scratches across his chest and stomach tearing slowly wider. His skin was painfully elastic as it stretched further and further, his intestines undergoing the same transformation: forced impossibly wide and stretching painfully to fit the unending length of vine pushing inside him. The slurried sap inside him, thick with dozens of plant spores, was hot and impossibly viscous as the vine tip began spurting a new fluid inside him, something that made him feel like he was burning up inside, a roaring heat inside his chest.

It was hard to breathe. He gasped around the oozing vine in his mouth, lungs not working right, diaphragm half-pulling, jumbled and shoved around inside him to make room for the dizzying length of vine inside him, its trapped bulb somewhere under his ribcage, his stomach just a series of bloated lumps, always shifting as the vine snaked its way through his intestines. He swore he could taste it in the back of his mouth, heavy and green and somehow metallic, but he was practically insensate, aware of nothing but the dizzy movement of the vines around and inside him, his body swollen and bulging and broken, waves of heat and chill sweeping over his skin; tacky and wet with sap, coated in pollen.

The vine shuddered inside him, and the slow increasing pressure of sap paused. The flowers stiff fronds scraped high up in his intestines as it opened again, straining against the inside of his rib cage with a dizzy pain. The vine lurched, swelling inside him as something new traveled down its length. It seemed to take forever, the thickness slowly pushing its way through the vine, stretching his guts until he swore he would burst. The flower's gaping opening inside him slowly bulged outward, something new settling inside him. That deep inside him, he couldn't feel anything aside from pressure and weight, pushing outwards. It was something solid and heavy, blobbing out in heavy lumps high inside him, thudding against his lungs and heart.

The dizzy euphoria of the pollen reached a new plateau. His vision fogged, outside sensations fading away as the vine pushed heavy blobs into him in an unending stream. The pain was tinged with an incredible pleasure, burning through him in waves, his angry, flushed skin pricking up in rippling goosebumps as the alien heat crept into his core, the mass of fluid and plant matter shoved inside him burning him up, scouring its way through his body as his awareness faded. He was already limp, arms and legs dangling bonelessly, throat mindlessly accepting the oozing tentacle, thin tubes clamping wetly around his nose and pumping in spore-laden air, rhythmically pumping air into him as the last vestiges of consciousness faded.

* * *

The underbrush was aggressively thick, and Blank took a special joy in ripping it apart with his long dagger, hacking away at anything that looked particularly animate. The fire was under control (or so Baku told him) but they still needed a way _out_ of the forest, with as much stuff as they could salvage. Which meant he and Marcus were the ones stuck looking for a way out, since they were the ones least likely to get killed. The good news was they'd found a wide river that looked to travel all the way out of the forest. The bad news was their outward path had already been obliterated by the shifting plants by the time they started heading back.

The thick undergrowth abruptly cut off and Blank almost stumbled down a cliff face; it was only Marcus' grabbing his shirt that kept him from tumbling down. The air smelled _heavier_ here, rich with plant pulp and something more rank and meaty, and it took him several moments to realize that the mass of tangled vines hanging at the edge of the cliff had a _person_ in it. Or so he thought; the vines were wound all around and _inside_ them, their body broken and bulging until it looked inhuman. He heard Marcus' breath catch behind him, and he knew he'd noticed the same thing.

The body was pulled spread-eagle by thick knots of vines wrapped around his arms and legs. His head lolled back like he was unconscious or worse, and his long dreadlocks fanned out like so many more vines. His entire body shone in the dim, flickering firelight, plant sap coating his skin, matting his thick body hair down, across his chest and belly.

He was also, Blank noticed tremendously, hugely erect: his cock jutted straight out from his crotch, oversized balls pulled up tight below. Veins bulged all across its length, the shaft flushed a hot red, visible even in the dim light, and it was wound up and down with thinner vines, with a fat pair of warted vines shoved straight into his gaping cockslit down inside.

"We, uh," Blank said, mouth dry. "We should probably save him."

Marcus sighed and grumbled, but obligingly pulled out his dagger and carefully moved closer to the hanging figure. "What're we gonna tell Baku."

"He'll deal," Blank said, like it was actually possible Baku would instead of throwing a fit. "We'll get some potions into him and get him to carry our stuff."

Marcus looked at the guy's body, sap oozing from his mouth, stomach bulging impossibly from his body, skin shredded into wide seaming stretch marks. "He's gonna need a lot more than a few potions."

They'd gotten a few steps closer, almost within touching distance, before Blank noticed the vines penetrating him. There were so many wrapped around his body, constantly sliding across his reddened skin, he hadn't noticed. But a thick, bumpy vine hung loosely around his neck, the end of it in the man's mouth, spreading his jaw so wide it looked almost like it had been knocked out of its socket. It slid back and forth, green spores spraying from its wart-like sacs as they shoved through his mouth, surrounding his head in a greenish fog.

The vine shoved up the man's ass, though, was something else entirely. It was _massive_ , bigger than one of Blank's legs; bigger than one of Marcus' legs; hell, definitely bigger even than one of the man's immense, muscled thighs, taut and straining against the vines spreading his legs. Not just a little bigger; it looked about as wide around as both legs _together_ , not just one. And it was spiked, with huge tan-brown thorns across its length, some straight up from the flesh of the vine, some curved up or down in wicked-looking hooks. The vine wasn't _fucking_ him, back and forth, so much as endlessly plunging deeper. It pushed and pushed, several impossibly-thick inches shoving into his ass as Blank stared, his cock rock-hard in his pants and already seeping precome as the man twitched and jerked, that mammoth vine twisting around as it tore into his abused ass.

Blank saw the guy's body convulse — still alive, then — and a thick burble of come, or maybe just sap, oozed out from his cock, spilling in thick cords down his shaft and stretching down into the slick mess of twisted vines beneath him. The guy was still breathing too: probably half from the plants pumping his body for him; he had more vines shoved up his nose and shoved down his throat.

It was perverse, but between the reek of the pollen and the meat of the guy's sweat and come; the flickering firelight showing off every inch of the guy's bare body, shining and sloppy with sap and come, Blank felt his cock twitch and slowly thicken in his trousers.

Marcus shifted next to him and Blank started, jerking away from his staring. They were close enough to touch now, the burning pollen reek rising off of the guy nearly visible to the touch, waves of heat spilling out from his brutalized body.

Blank reached out and touched the vines wrapped around him: loose now, lax and spent. He tugged them off, vines vaguely resisting for a moment before they spilled off his body. But — he was stuffed with vines on all ends; a massive thorny club of a vine shoved up inside his ass, the raw red flesh of his gaping hole visibly on display. The vines around his stirred, and the guy's stomach lurched, who-knew how much shoved inside him. Blank's palms itched, hot, and he reached out again, wrapping his hands around the thick, thorny vine plunged unmercifully into the guy's ass. He tugged, gingerly, and the vine spilled out with a wet _slorp_ , its flesh drooling with murky, clotted sap, thick rivers of dense pollen spilling out of the man's ass. But the vine was still sunk inside him, no end in sight. Even a few inches of it seemed impossible to fit, but Blank tugged again, and again, foot after foot of within, sap-slick vine pouring out of the man's gaping, distended ass. His stomach bulged and writhed, churning and lurching as Blank pulled out more and more of the vine.

His worn asshole had folded out backwards, his guts pulling out along with the vine, flushed a dark, violent red, and Blank had had to slowly take hold of his bloated flesh and stuff them back inside, his hands fitting easily into his broken-open asshole even alongside the immense vine.

The man had just jerked and twitched as he did it, his cock spewing long lines of come across Blank's side, and it took all his willpower to not just sag forward, plunging both arms into the man's ass as he sucked his cock down to the root. His dick hurt from rubbing against the front of his trousers, and he was about two seconds of rubbing away from coming in his pants. Instead he tugged on the vines shoved straight down into the guy's cock: he could feel them churning, pumping slime straight into the man's cock — into his prostate or balls directly; who knew how deep they had worked their way. It was the all the same, all over: what seemed like miles of vines, churning and pumping and saturating his entire body, inside and out, sunk without end into every opening his body could admit.

Blank's grip on the vine in his ass slipped, and immediately the thing plunged back inside him, two feet slamming into him in a ruthless thrust that just made the man groan around the vine he was still sucking on, his cock spurting a frothy mess of sap all down his shaft, burning hot as it smeared over the back of Blank's hand.

Marcus had been pulling off the vines wrapped around the guy's head. He could see the man's throat kick and bulge as he pulled on the huge, lumpy vine that was shoved down his throat, more sliding out out of his belly — and it emerged coated in a thick slurry of spit and sap, slimy and tacky to the touch. The man's face and neck were covered in it, huge wet strands running down his bare chest, matting his thick chest hair down even beyond what his sweat did, practically gluing it down.

Marcus grabbed the vine and pulled — gingerly — tugging out the thin cords shoved up his nose, and the guy coughed and wheezed more, a slimy mess of snot and sap spilling from his nose as he started breathing on his own again, each breath rattling and wet, punctuated by the wet slurp of slime working its way up his throat. Marcus kept going, and the fat, slobbery lines swung back and forth, slapping against his wrists and forearms and sticking there, the wet slime dripping across his skin slowly and seeming to seep wet heat right into his skin. The vine pulled free with all its fat warted spore-sacs ruptured, spores all fed straight into his stomach and lungs.

The guy convulsed, suddenly choking, and heaved, spitting out the end of the vine in a wash of slime, arms dimly tugging against the vines still wrapped around them. Blank, watching, dazed, just had to raise it up and lick across the fleshy, spongy side of the vine, catching the tip just as Marcus tugged it out of the other man's mouth, swallowing it down himself. If the sap coating the vine had felt warm, this felt like liquid fire, streaking down his throat and across his entire body, throbbing inside him in time to his heartbeat. He swallowed and swallowed again, gulping as the vine probed against the back of his throat and then down, plugging off his airway. He moaned, voice catching in the back of his throat, and leaned into it, opening his mouth to let it plunge deeper only to have Marcus' blurry, unfocused hand grasp it right in front of his face and gently pull it back out.

Blank blinked, mouth hanging open, sap pooling across his tongue, only dimly remembering to swallow before he breathed. The man jerked towards him, mashing their faces together, noses colliding, teeth scraping against lips as they kissed, licking into each other's mouths for the remnants of the sap, the both of them huffing and moaning as they panted into the kiss.

Marcus got another vine off the man, spiraling loosely around Marcus' arm for a second before he brushed it off, and the man sunk down, feet hitting the ground and immediately buckling, sending his body swinging back and forth, tugging vines in every direction. 

"Get his ass," Marcus said, voice rasping and hoarse, and pushing Blank a half-step backwards, back to the titanic vine splitting the guy's ass in half, but then he tugged his belt open, shoving his pants down enough for his cock to spring out and slap across the guy's face, smearing his hard cock through the frothy mess of spit and sap and phlegm before the guy tilted his head up and eagerly sucked his cock down to the root, moaning as his nose flattened against Marcus' heavy balls.

Blank was in a daze, mindlessly tugging on the vine plugged into the guy's ass, dimly aware of everything around him but mostly of the throb of his own cock, the slurping slime under his palms as he wrapped around the churning tentacle and tugged it, more and more and more of it spilling out of the guy's ass, seemingly without end. The guy's ass spilled out with it, a thick rubbery lip of bruised, inverted flesh sucking at the vine as it slurped out of him, all puffy and glossy.

It was unreal; even as Blank pulled he could see the man's stomach bloat and distend from the vine inside; the thing must have been trying to practically thread him all the way through, and given the amount inside him, it had gotten damn close. The lax coil of vine was longer than the guy was tall; twice that, maybe three times. Even then he could only tell he was close because the man's guts stopped lurching and twitching every time Blank pulled more out.

Blank grabbed the vine again and pulled, meeting the slightest resistance before an enormous, spongy bulb easily as broad as the man's hips popped out, pulling the man's guts out with it. It was soft and squishy to the touch, and dimpled with a dozen deep holes, each steadily oozing sap. Blank reached forward, hands wrapping around the fat, stubby tail the man's guts made hanging out of him, and unevenly pushed, shoving them and his hands back inside, past the bloated, rubbery ring of his wrecked asshole.

Blank rested his hand across the man's ass, the immense gape of his ass covering his palm entirely, the broken ring of his ass twitching and slurping against his fingers. The man's body was hot to the touch, sweaty and sticky, and slowly Blank felt the man's ass gape again, his guts pressing wetly into the palm of his hand, the wet slick skin fluttering against his palm, rolling against it. A shudder went through the man's body again as his muscles clenched, and his asshole slowly squeezed tighter, the flesh pulling away from Blank's palm with a wet slurp. It was obvious that the muscle had been abused; all across his ass his skin was flushed a bright, hot red, that evenly faded into the dark, bloody-looking red of his guts.

The man's thighs twitched and trembled as his distended, inverted asshole clenched over and over, slowly sucking his guts back into his body. They thick flesh slide over itself as it furled together and finally pulled back inside with a wet popping slurp. The ring of his asshole still gaped wide, the flesh there swollen grotesquely, forming huge fat wrinkles. They crinkled together unevenly as the overworked ring of muscle around his asshole clenched, trying to close. The gaping hole finally seamed closed, plant sap still oozing from the loose pucker, but the swell of swollen flesh itself jutted out from between his muscled ass cheeks, flushed and burning hot against Blank's palm.

Blank pulled his hands back, sharp wet crackles and rubbery snaps sounding as he stretched out cords of rubbery, slimy sap, so thickly clotted with pollen and seeds that it was opaque. A sluggish waterfall slowly crested past the spasming wreck of the man's ass, pouring unceasingly out of him now that the vine was out. His stomach was still bloated, even: fat and swollen to the point of tearing taut stretch marks across his hips and sides, just now it was certain that all that weight was _sap_ , sap and pollen and seeds.

Marcus groaned, hands on the guy's throat, tugging his head forward, and Blank looked down at the guy's blown-open ass, hands automatically tugging his shorts down, cock springing out and smearing a trail through the hairy flesh of the guy's thigh. He shoved inside, a thick burble of sap gushing out, burning hot across his stomach and thighs, and started thrusting, him and Marcus spitroasting the guy, still strung up in his sling of vines. The guy groaned, hands spasming and tugging against the vines, throat swallowing Marcus' load, asshole squelching and slurping, each of Blank's thrusts sending a plume of sap gushing out around his cock.

They both came; he couldn't say how many times. Blank found himself scooping up thick handfuls of pollen-soaked slime and smearing it up his chest, the burn growing hotter and hotter as it soaked into his flesh until he was panting, gasping and whining from the intensity — everything hot and slick, pressure and heat eddying around him and waves, everything glistening and flickering.

He wasn't aware of stopping, precisely, just there came a time when he and Marcus both pulled, cocks drooling across the guy's skin, and shook a few more vines off. The man found his feet, some fraction of his weight settling on the ground, and that shifted his hips, forcing the swollen mound of flesh between his cheeks tight, the rolling crinkles sliding against each other as they jutted out beyond his tensed cheeks. His torso was still caught in the vines, and they rustled anxiously now, dimly sensing their quarry was escaping.

He pulled the man a single staggering step forward before he toppled over, and it took minutes to pull him up and have them both sling one of the man's arms over their shoulders and half-drag him away from the writhing nest of vines.

They made it a few shambling steps, at least back near the narrow path, before their lurching motion broke apart, the guy's legs sagging under him, Marcus' steps growing slower and slower as he focused more on grinding his trapped cock against the guy's side. Blank was no better, just staring at the guy's cock, still enormously hard, bouncing up and down with each step, muscle spasms sending it twitching. They all collapsed, the guy panting hard, trembling arms braced against a treetrunk; Marcus and Blank kneeling below, just staring at his sap-soaked cock. They both reached for it at the same time, hands colliding, and when they both wrapped their hands around the shaft — it was easily long enough for both of their hands to fit — the guy groaned, a bellow that ended with a choking, hacking cough as he spat, thick sap drooling from his lips and splattering across their forearms.

His cock shuddered under their hands, head pulsing. The guy's cockslit gaped wide; Marcus had his hand in front, and he could've easily shoved his finger straight down the wide, gaping hole if that was what he was after. Instead he cradled the guy's cockhead, dragging his fingers along the slimy curve of his bloated cockhead, thumb sliding over the web of flesh just below his gaping slit.

The man groaned, his wet, rattling breath kicking up a notch, and his cock shuddered, spurting out a messy plume of grimy pre all across Blank's face and chest. Marcus leaned in, mouth open, dragging his tongue up Blank's cheek to catch the clotted slime, dense and sharply herbal, gritty with seeds when he swallowed.

Marcus and Blank's hands knocked against each other for a second before they found a rhythm, steadily milking the guy for spurt after spurt of tainted pre, gushing out across their faces as they sloppily made out across the guy's cockhead, gulping down mouthfuls of thick, plant-infested slime.

The man shuddered, hips jerking, gasps louder and louder as they stroked him off. He let out a bellow, agonized, and his cock shuddered and erupted in tar-thick slime, smacking hot and heavy all across Marcus' face until Blank tugged his erupting cockhead to the side, catching the next few blasts all across his face, dripping down in thick, chunky globs. In the dim light of the forest it shone green, more sap and seeds than come. And the guy just kept coming — a dozen, two dozen spurts, gushing over and over with wheezing bellows as his cock spat out some small volume of all the sap that had been pumped into him, until Marcus and Blank were soaked, webs of come shimmering between them, thick clots making sluggish trails down their cheeks, dribbling down their necks. Marcus tugged Blank's shoulder, tipping his head closer, and dragged his tongue up his cheek, catching a drooling mouthful of clotted ooze, and then pressed his lips against Blank's, spitting the mess of slime into his mouth, the both of them huffing and panting as they struggled to swallow more of the goo — and still their faces were pelted with heavy, hot ropes of come, chunky with pollen and seeds, drooling down in slimy rivers. His and Marcus' face were completely slathered, thick blobs caught in Marcus' eyebrows and building up behind his tusks, skin shining wetly as more come spilled down his cheeks in clumps. Blank leaned in, lapping up across his neck and jaw, gulping open-mouthed as Marcus took the guy's cockhead between his lips, drinking directly, throat working under Blank's tongue.

At some point the guy was spent, or at least spent for the moment. His cock only spasmed weakly, still-hard but no longer gushing, just a slow, slimy spill of gritty sap that Blank and Marcus shared, nursing from the guy's cock, smearing it between them, crackling between their lips.

"Wait," Blank said, pulling back from the kiss, glimmering strings of come stretching between their lips. "I think we got a dose of the pollen."

"No shit," Marcus said, and swiped a big chunk of come from Blank's cheek with his thumb, popping it into his mouth. Blank followed the motion, swaying forward, and Marcus grinned toothily around his finger, tugging Blank forward to kiss again. "'S not that bad, is it?" His hand found Blank's cock, soaked with sap and come, and wrapped around it, tugging. Blank moaned into Marcus' mouth, hips jerking, dizzily aware of his cock pulsing, throbbing in Marcus' fist as he came again.

"Nah," Blank said, dazed. "Probably we should get back to the ship sometime."

"Yeah," Marcus agreed, and then went down on his cock.

There was a _thump_ next to him, the guy going down on his hands and knees, panting hoarsely. He coughed again, spitting up a slimy glob of sap, and sagged against the tree trunk, raising one hand to wipe the worst of the slime from his face. He looked up, seeming for the first time to really solidly notice the two of them:

"Hey," the guy said, and he had a pretty nice voice. Low and even, even if it was a rasping mess from having his throat fucked by a vine.

"Hey," Blank said, leaning in, and they kissed, the guy's hand coming up to brace against his shoulder, huffing and panting as the guy licked into his mouth, tongue slimy and sap-tasting.

They were a soaked, sopping mess by the time they got up; Blank dimly aware of probably sucking off one or both of them again at some point, shambling in a naked and slimy mess back towards the ship.

The breeze was so faint as to be almost nonexistent, but he could still feel every curl and eddy across his skin, slicing along the grooves in his skin and trailing across his bare, sweaty back. He was so hard it _hurt_ , cock steadily drooling pre as he walked; the other two were the same, cocks hard and — in the guy's case — grotesquely oversized, bloated and bruised from the work of the vines.

What a mess they were gonna make when they got back to the _Hilda Garde_ ; at least there they had the seed-removal potions they were all gonna need. And the rest of Tantalus, and Baku, who was surely going to throw a fit.


End file.
